


closing times don't exist for tony stark

by mvrcredi



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grocery Store, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Retail, First Meetings, Grocery Shopping, Late at Night, M/M, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-Slash, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-16 19:22:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16960029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mvrcredi/pseuds/mvrcredi
Summary: “Okay, look. I know you desperately need groceries or whatever, but we’re closed, and I’d very much so like to go home.”





	closing times don't exist for tony stark

“Okay, look,” a voice says from behind, startling the living daylights out of Tony. He jumps, dropping almost half the boxes he’d had cradled in his arms as he searched the shelves.

Tony whips around to come face-to-face with a _very_ handsome and very _built_ man, who just seems... tired. He’s glancing at the fallen groceries with a glazed-over look. He sighs.

“I know you so desperately need groceries or whatever, but we’re closed, and I’d very much so like to go home,” he continues, gaze returning to Tony. And, now that he sees it, the man wears a nametag— _Steve R.,_ it reads.

“I, uh,” Tony says rather dumbly. “Sorry about that. I’ll be—I just. I have to—“

The man—Steve—sighs again, his shoulders slumping. “I’ll give you five more minutes. You’d better be at the cash by then or I’m kicking you out, groceries or no,” he warns, then turns on his heel and marches away. Tony blinks.

_Well then,_ he thinks. _Better get a move on._

He hurriedly gathers up his fallen items, adds one more to his collection once he finds what he’s looking for, and nearly bolts for the cash. There, Steve is stood, not bothering to hide his boredom-slash-exhaustion. Tony drops his items on the belt in a rush.

“You need bags?” Steve drawls, beginning to scan the items.

Tony hesitates a moment, but decides on, “Um. Yeah, sure. I’ll help.”

He does help, however his bagging skills are obviously lacking. It’s alright, though.

“Why are you here so late, anyway? Store’s always dead by nine-thirty,” Steve asks.

“Well,” Tony shrugs helplessly, “I... I tend to go on workshop binges for days at a time and seem to forget food runs out. I finally finished a project, and figured I was just in time for a grocery run so I wouldn’t starve, or whatever.”

“So what do you do for a living, then? Are you an engineer of sorts?” Steve raises an eyebrow. He rattles off Tony’s total like it’s second nature (it probably was), the latter waving his credit card in return.

Tony huffs out a laugh. “Of sorts.”

Steve hums, handing him his receipt. “Well, have a good night—“

“Tony.”

“Tony,” Steve nods. “See you around, then.”

 

-=-

 

There’s a groan a distance away from Tony, this time.

“Not you again,” says the familiar voice. And there he is; Steve in his unzipped fleece jacket and work shirt, standing at the end of the isle.

This time, Tony grins in response. “Did’ya miss me?”

“Miss you?” Steve scoffs, though Tony sees the corner of his lips quirk up, “I was dreading your possible return, actually.”

“I take offense to that,” Tony gasps, his free hand over his heart—he had remembered to take a basket with him. Steve rolls his eyes.

“I cannot believe you didn’t learn your lesson the first time ‘round,” Steve shakes his head in mock-exasperation. “You know the drill.”

“But you’re not even closed!” Tony calls.

“It’s eleven-twenty, Tony. We are very much so closed,” Steve replies over his shoulder, and then he disappears off to the right, out from the isle. Tony pouts. Surely he hadn’t lost track of time to such an extent. Surely Steve was lying. Whatever. He wasn’t going to check his watch anyhow.

Tony finally approaches the cash, a question already strung along, “Why don’t you just make an announcement for all shoppers to hurry their asses up and leave?”

Steve’s expression morphs into that of puzzlement. “What do you... we _do_ make an announcement. Every night. How have you not...”

“Uh...” Tony pauses to think of an excuse, “Selective hearing?”

Steve rolls his eyes for the second time that night. “Unbelievable. Just let me scan your groceries so we can both be home free.”

Despite it only being the second time this had happened, it already seemed like routine. No small talk, just the blaring beeps of the scanner and the clicking of buttons whenever needed by Steve. Tony was bagging, of course. Steve still looked bored, and Tony? Well, he was admiring just how handsome Steve was, even as he simply performed his job as a cashier.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Steve deadpans (mostly. There’s a _teensy_ bit of curiosity hidden in his tone). Obviously, not all of Tony’s thoughts had been kept to himself. Man, he must be really tired.

“I honestly can’t tell if you’re talking to yourself or me,” Steve adds. He’s done scanning now, and Tony had kind of just been... staring.

“I honestly have no clue either. I lack a brain-to-mouth filter,” Tony admits bluntly. “But I do, however, find you very handsome.”

A faint blush rises on Steve’s face. He ducks his head. Tony smiles.

“Hey Steve?”

“Yeah, Tony?” he squeaks.

“Would you like to maybe... go out some time? Y’know, when you’re not working and it’s not eleven-thirty at night?” Tony asks tentatively, chewing on his bottom lip.

Steve finally looks back up again, his expression now more soft, and less fatigued and embarrassed. He’s smiling gently at Tony.

“That sounds... yes. Sure,” Steve accepts breathlessly, “I would love to.”

**Author's Note:**

> i swear i do know cashier stuff, being that that's my current job lol
> 
> i just wanted to get a short & sweet, non-bingo related story out, i hope you enjoyed. <3


End file.
